


In which Albert reminisces a recent past

by laughingpineapple



Series: There Were Always Two [7]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Gen, TSHOTP compliant, but always unavoidable fates, sometimes it's wonky timelines sometimes it's wonky memory, with a tip of the hat to Lynch and Gifford's Hotel Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 13:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10537422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/pseuds/laughingpineapple
Summary: And wishes it were his own.





	

The room never changes. Therefore, the call, or the memory of the call, which is sometimes one and the same, is not allowed to change either, and it remains as fresh as an open wound.

It is an intrinsic corollary of the transitional quality of hotel rooms, that Albert may wake up in Seattle, pick up his socks from the floor in San Francisco and his last good shirt from a drawer in Tucson, and still feel like he hasn't run at all. Inevitably, he gravitates toward the room's phone, where the words of the call still linger:

 

“I will be frank, Coop. You're barely out of the confrontation with your shooter and now there's a slicker screwy slaughterer after your ass. Do take better care of said posterior, will you? Just once, in your lifetime. As a personal favor.”

“Albert, it is seven in the morning and I am touched by the frequency of my presence in your thoughts. I feel a lot safer.”

“This is the polar opposite of what I meant. Send my regards to the penguins.”

“I know what you meant, Albert, but allow me to bask in the care and affection underlying your concerns, when so many lately have wanted me dead.”

“Well then, _ask_ , we can arrange a six-hour recording of me praising your virtues for you to bask in like a proverbial lizard any old time, free of charge. But praise and fancies won't keep you safe. Anything happens, call, you hear me? I'll be there in a whiff. Just call.”

“Thank you, Albert. I will.”

 

He knows he said to call at any new development, and Coop said yes, it is fixed, the heart of the call. Variables: Coop thanking him again in his softest voice, like a lingering dream; him tying his fingers together while fidgeting with the phone cord; a stubborn “I love you” whispered after hanging up, or before, for all it mattered. Coop knew, Coop always knew.

 

In the room, which is Albuquerque, Denver, Omaha, Albert remembers the call's every detail, as if on one morning, any morning from the last time he saw Dale Cooper to March 28th, 1989 when their world ended, he ever had the guts to pick up the phone and make it. He never did. All that's left is regret. He never heard from Cooper again. It is a tiresome weight to live with, the knowledge that he could have made a difference.

 

 

Elsewhere, in the same room, Albert remembers the call's every detail. Not the day - it could have been any morning from the last time he saw Dale Cooper to March 28th, 1989 when their world ended. He bared his heart. All that's left is regret. He never heard from Cooper again. It is a tiresome weight to live with, the knowledge that he was left behind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Things you said over the phone"


End file.
